"...Then make the climb. As the child did... without the rope. Then fear will find you again." -- some fun guy from The Dark Knight Rises, I think. I wanted a corny quote to kick things off.

Anyway, this climb put a healthy amount of fear in all of us, but it was the trip of a lifetime. I had taken some time off to rest my knee, and had been turning down invitations left and right for far too long. So, when I got a chance to get one more 14er before the cold and snow set in, I took it. Our group consisted of the following: Annie, with whom I've climbed several times, Katie, who I met on Wilson Peak last year and Crestone Needle this summer, and Kevin A., who I'd never met but the review was "he's like Kevin B (another friend of ours) but he shows up on time". We'd all been chatting over the course of the summer about various peaks, and we'd hiked in similar circles, but the was the first time heading out as a foursome.

We set out for Maroon Peak, with the goal of getting Annie to the top of Maroon for her 14er finisher. Lots of planning happened, but we ended up in Aspen on a Saturday night. Somehow, the thought of sleeping outside and getting up at 3AM was more appealing than relaxing in luxurious hotels and mingling with society's elite.

Honestly, I had no interest in the traverse. I was scared that it was beyond my ability, had already summited North before, and was worried about whether my knee would really hold up. This seemed dangerous, especially without a rope. With that as context, but knowing that this was a good chance to summit Maroon with a strong group and help my friend finish the 14ers, I set off for Aspen. Plan A was, of course, to find a billionaire to marry, but this seemed like an excellent second choice.

It was late in the day by the time we arrived at Maroon Lake. There were 3 moose at the lake, with tourists getting too close to them. We appreciated the human shields, though, and we enjoyed a hike through aspen forests that were beginning to turn yellow. We then arrived at the first major difficulty: camping spots. Every single site had some sort of occupancy, which ranged from tightly packed tents, to 1-man setups where a single hiker unilaterally decided that the entire spot was theirs. We wandered back/forth for over an hour, testing each site to see if we could squeeze in. Luckily, site 10 had only 1 tent and a (friendlier) hiker there. Had we struck out, we may have had to abort our plans before they even started. I think those overnight reservations may have been oversold... but we set up in the dark, and everyone else went to bed while I wandered off to cook my fancy backpacker's pantry meal by starlight.

The morning came, and we set off around 4AM with our headlamps towards the slope of fun. My headlamp decided to die midway up the slope despite starting on 3/4 power. Not a great sign, but we pressed onward knowing that we'd have daylight before the scrambling began. Sure enough, the slog took twice as long as we'd figured, and we enjoyed a scenic backdrop to our suffering as the sun came up.

We reached the ridge and started to gain an appreciation for what was to come. Maroon Peak looked so far away. It was clear that our time of easy walking wouldn't return for a very long time. We set off, armed with route descriptions, GPX files, youthful exuberance, and sleep-deprived optimism. This powered us to the first chimney, where we all either changed into our approach shoes or tightened our laces on the approach shoes already on our feet. We made sure to get some nice pictures of our finisher/superstar, with some candid shots for the rest. I led the way here and did my best to find every loose rock on the mountain.

Speaking of which, having now done both Bells and Pyramid, I do think that the looseness is a little overblown. Well, maybe with that caveat of IF you stay on the route. There's just so much traffic on standard 14er routes, and, while there was more than enough scree/choss to go around, I only found one section where I felt like everything was sliding down. Then again, though, I love loose rock. I seriously find it kinda fun. Katie and Annie were less enthused as we meandered through the gullies and ledges, and Kevin just wanted to throwback to a time when we youths would all plank hardcore.

Sadly, our loose rock fun had to come to an end. After a series of seemingly endless gullies, ledge traverses, and surprisingly solid class 3 pitches, we found ourselves approaching the summit of Maroon Peak. As we approached, we brought out the celebratory garments for Annie's finisher. She's climbed in many places, but this was an impressive finishing push by someone who I've had the pleasure of climbing with multiple times. Congrats, Annie! Next up, centennials.

Now, I headed down and watched them go have fun without me. Oh, wait, never mind... that's what a responsible person would have done. I couldn't bear to go without. Honestly, it was a tough choice regarding whether or not to traverse. Despite my GPX file, waypoints...etc, I didn't love the idea of descending Maroon alone (though I was comfortable doing it if necessary). While Annie, Katie, and Kevin continued to celebrate, I stared at the traverse through Kevin's binoculars. I was scared of both options, as usual. I get frightened easily, even after dozens of class 3+ climbs and several confidence-builders. I didn't want to be a burden on my group, but I also knew that this was a great chance to test my abilities with a group of people whom I trusted. I asked everyone if they'd be willing to go slow with me, help me find moves...etc if necessary. Upon receiving some reassurances, I said, "screw it, let's give it a shot". I knew that this was probably the last big day of the season, and it was time to live a little. A little bit of poor mental health-inspired recklessness probably contributed too, if I'm being completely honest. Anyway, onward to the fun stuff. It was a little bit after noon, and we had a perfect forecast all day long -- almost no wind, less than 10% chance for rain, 45 degrees.

We knew from recent condition reports+weather-watching that there was a chance of snow on Maroon's northern side. Sure enough, the start of the traverse did not disappoint. Before we could face any cruxes, a challenge presented itself: snow/ice-covered ledges on the way to the bell chord couloir. We all had spikes, but we were vacillating on whether or not to use them. The snow was intermittent, and we often took slight variations of lines according to our comfort levels. Some of us preferred more snow and didn't mind slippery feet, while others preferred to stay on rock with some risk of verglas. Honestly, this part was a huge confidence-builder for me. There was exposure, and we had to take careful steps. I felt comfortable leading some sections, trading off with everyone else as we scouted, descended, paused, and repeated.

Then, the real stuff began. We all made sure not to rush anything as we approached the major difficulties of the bells traverse (other than finding camping spots, of course). The first pitch begins fairly simply -- a class 4 chimney feature, followed by a short class 5 climb. This was great for all of us. The holds were abundant, the rock was solid, and the exposure was (relatively) mild. If you blew it on the initial class 4 section, it probably wouldn't be instant death. This section was also where we practiced our spacing, communication...etc. In general, Kevin would lead, Katie and I would go in the middle, and Annie would bring up the rear. It was incredible to be immersed in this world. It was a vertical garden, with maroon rock, yellow-green hues from the valley below, and no space to care about anything but the rock in front of us and the well-being of our group. I can say unabashedly that I leaned on each of them throughout the traverse, and we all supported each other through various moves.

After this pitch, we faced a short scramble to regain the ridge. The traverse along the ridge was airy, and the route description isn't kidding when they describe the exposure. This would be a bad place to slip on either side. But, then again, we had already been in a no-fall zone and would be for hours, so this was what we had to get accustomed to. The rock quality had improved, and the challenge of this section prepared us for what was to come. We took our time, butt-scooting in some sections, walking others, and making awkward step-around moves on downsloping rock from time to time. Such is the nature of the bells. Every now and then, something big would be too loose for comfort, and we faced a couple of awkward moves here.

We eventually made our way over to what appeared to be the crux of the traverse: a wall, with multiple class 5 pitches looming. We could see cruxes 2 and 3 (per the route description), and they looked daunting. The first challenge, though, was finding where to start. We took a solid 30-40 minutes figuring this out. The description mentions heading out to the right to start this pitch. The small face to the right is near-vertical, though, and it gave us pause. Annie followed some cairns to the left, while Kevin scouted the face. At one point, he pulled on a big wobbly rock, and we had a small scare. Annie, on the other hand, found a way through the cairns at class 3. She paused halfway up the face, ready to begin the class 5 moves required to solve crux 2.

This was the first part that was truly scary. We could see rappel anchors at the top of the pitch, and the exposure here was huge. A slip here would be fatal, and we had to take care in finding the perfect line. The moves were a bit tricky, too. I wouldn't describe them as overly difficult, but the holds were smaller, they required a bit more testing, and good form was more relevant than it was in crux 1. The small chimney that we chose wasn't protected from the exposure, but having two sides did make holds more abundant for us. There was one move where we had to make use of small footholds for the right foot, and we were all thankful to have had our approach shoes on.

When we stood atop crux 2, we all felt pretty in the zone. The moves weren't horribly difficult, but the exposure was so in your face that it required being locked in. It was a good thing, though, because crux 3 would prove to be the hardest challenge of the day. We could see the cracks from the route description, but honestly, no line looked good. We were joined by a solo climber at this point, and the 5 of us played around with different lines trying to find a way up.

For those looking for detailed route info, our pictures are limited, but I'll describe as follows: the crack on the right is reputed to be the harder of the two options. I think I agree. The first part is very easy, but there's an overhanging bit halfway up the pitch that requires what I'd call highly-exposed mid-5th-class moves. It's the sort of move(s) you make comfortably in the bouldering cave, but not in a place like this (unless you're very confident/skilled). It's a shame, because leading up to this portion is fine, and the top-out afterwards is fine too. Annie and Katie chose this line, but they found a solution slightly to the right (ridge-side). They had to do some awkward maneuvers to make it up. Once over or around this move, there are a few tricky moves to gain the ridge too.

The second crack is interesting as well. It's narrow, and it feels less exposed than it is as a result. This pitch does not comfortably lead to the ridge, though, and that's where the trouble lies. An awkward stem gets you to about 2/3 up, but the remaining way to the ridge is a squeeze that won't go with a pack on. If someone was above and could take a pack from you, it's possible to gain the ridge this way. If not, though, it gets spicier. Kevin and I went up this route and found ourselves traversing a small ledge to the right. We had to do an awkward step down/around over nothing but air. The downsloping rock made it particularly tricky, as you had to shift your weight under a boulder to a foothold, with handholds located behind you. This was the point where I felt stymied, to be honest. I wasn't at all comfortable making this move, and I had no choice but to look at the exposure in order to pull it off. I had Kevin walk me through it and give me encouragement. I didn't panic or freak out, but I knew that this was something I wasn't feeling great about. But, what choice was there? We were committed, and I had seen Kevin make the same move just a few minutes ago. I did the critical shift, probably not in the cleanest manner. After that, we met up with Annie and Katie to gain the ridge.

Once we got there, we had another tricky step-down/across of sorts that is easier for tall folks (Kevin). It went quickly, though, and we found ourselves back atop a narrow ridge with Spire #2 and the final pitch to N Maroon visible. We went around Spire #2, dipping around on the right to gain access to the final pitch. A few gullies/ledges later (which would otherwise have been scary moves... but after pulling exposed class 5 for hours, this felt like walking up the stairs at home), we summited North Maroon. Woah. Time to breathe out... well, not quite, but a little bit. The traverse took us a solid 4-4.5 hours. I think that our group did a great job of staying patient, and understanding that as long as we could get off the class 3 bits on N. Maroon while it was light, that ultimately, we were still on a safe pace. I think our patience and clear-headedness was the key to our safe trip.

North Maroon, of course, wasn't trivial. Annie and I had done it before, and we knew that the day's spiciness was far from over. We descended off the summit to find the top portions covered with a thin layer of snow, with a bit of ice mixed in. Time for microspikes. We kept putting them on, only to take them off and repeat the process. The chimney, however, was dry. The crucial hold at the top wasn't, though, and we all took turns freezing our fingers as we descended. It looked like a few rocks had either fallen in or been placed in since I'd last been there, so the exposure felt easier. Maybe it was just from being in no-fall-zones for half a day, though. It was still hard class 4.

Finally, at long last, we made it safely to the shooting gallery that is the second gulley of N. Maroon. This was my time to shine. As I mentioned before, I love loose rock. I also love memorizing things visually, though, and I remembered where the cairned path down the gully was, along with the way out. Annie and Kevin had explored to skier's left, but it was mostly junk on that side of the gully. I finally felt useful as I led us down. We were joined by a solo hiker at that point, as well as a group of climbers that had been way behind us on the traverse but had started to catch up.

It was also at this point that my knee began to act up. 6 weeks off, 12 hours of healthy hiking... and my knee finally decided that it was time to start screaming. I made it out of the second gully okay, but by the time we were descending the first gully, I could feel it with each step. I had been cleared by my doctor, as it was just some IT band inflammation, but even trekking poles+advil only got me so far. Still, despite the knee pain, the pretty views and rapidly deteriorating daylight kept me inspired to keep moving. Katie, Kevin, and Annie were all still kicking, but they were starting to run on fumes as well.

Thus began one of the more excruciating slogs we've all had the misfortune to experience. We made it to the rock glacier, with all of us either running low on water or completely out of it. We stumbled along, keeping a surprisingly decent pace, waiting to collapse. We all filled up at the stream by Minnehaha Gulch, and we drank (filtered) water before continuing to descend in the dark. The last few miles felt like eons, even with our light packs and the end in sight. We all kept dreading our days at work the following morning. But, we made it to camp, and we used what little energy we had left to pack up. So began the full-pack death march. Occasional rolled ankles, very few words, constant "are we there yet?" vibes, and random nonsensical thoughts filled our experiences on the way down. My knee was on fire. Kevin was speaking jibberish. Katie was slowing down considerably. All we had left was Annie, who had the fortune of driving us all back to our cars in Aspen. We made it to the TH safely, though, and started down.

I'd say that the TR ends here, but there was one last piece. We arrived back at our cars in Aspen and went to unload our stuff. Surprise! The trunk of Annie's car was open. When we packed our stuff up at the TH, nobody bothered to close the trunk. Annie drove safely, but the four of us were so tired that none of us noticed. We drove by multiple cop cars too, and apparently they were also too tired to notice (who knew that Krispy Kreme was as exhausting as the Bells Traverse?). And, as a cherry on top, nothing fell out. Somehow, we managed to keep every piece of hiking gear locked into its respective spot despite having the trunk wide open. I guess packing efficiently is an old habit that dies hard. We then congratulated each other (again), went our separate ways, and all tried not to fall asleep driving home. I caught myself drifting into the wrong lane a few times and pulled over for 15-20 minute sleep breaks. Kevin did the same. Annie was smart and camped out, as she didn't have to get to work in the morning. Katie was able to take I-70 back but still struggled to stay awake. We all collapsed when we got to our respective sleeping spots (approx. 4AM, just over 24 hours from when we started hiking). We were utterly worn out, we had done some dangerous things, but we were all ultimately very satisfied with ourselves. This was a great way to cap off the (main) 14er season, and the Bells Traverse is something we'll all be proud of for a very long time.

That's all for this TR. My toe is still a bit numb from wearing approach shoes for 19 hours. I hope you all were able to immerse yourselves in my experience, and I hope to have even more TRs by the end of next year. Special thanks to Kevin for helping me through the tough sections on the traverse, Katie for the mid-route tylenol that saved me coming down N. Maroon, and Annie for the spork that helped me enjoy my fancy pad thai the night before. I couldn't have made it without each of you, and I apologize for being a bit of a burden on this one. Extra congrats to Annie on her finisher, and thanks everyone for reading!